


Time and Again

by Angelic_Ascent



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Game(s), Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7666318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelic_Ascent/pseuds/Angelic_Ascent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sorey had never, not for one second, doubted his relationship with Mikleo, ever since they were children… but six hundred years was a long time. Anything could’ve happened. It wasn’t even that he was worried about anything in particular -- it was simply that the time itself felt like a distance vaster than the world itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time and Again

**Author's Note:**

> kind of a sequel piece to [Flowerfall](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3529364). not required reading, but references are made to it. more than a few people made mentions of how they wanted to see sorey reunite with mikleo, so here you are, i hope you enjoy!

He’ll probably never be able to properly describe any of the things he felt during those hundreds of years.

Or lack of things he felt. That’s how it was supposed to have been, anyway. And he thinks it was… at first? That it was simply like being in a very deep, dreamless sleep. But he’s sure -- he’s sure -- it wasn’t always like that.

He could feel things, eventually. Or maybe he could the whole time. Perhaps “sensing” was a better way to put it. 

The roots of grief and anger that dug into the land with the burial of a loved one. The trickles of sadness that dripped in from someone’s tears. The showers of happiness. The storms of anger. The rays of love.

Sometimes, the negativity was nearly too much, especially during the first half of it all. Even though they worked endlessly to purify the land, malevolence still existed. It seeped into the earth itself, so much so that he became nearly lucid. Of course, he still couldn’t see, or hear, or physically feel. But he could think. And he thought, when this happened, perhaps it was fruitless. Perhaps it was a waste. After all, he and Maotelas could work for an eternity, but in the end it was up to people outside, both the tenzoku and the humans, to work together. And it was something he had always, _always_ believed could happen, _would_ happen… but…

It was at these times -- so few, yet so critical -- that he could swear he felt, and heard; truly felt within himself and heard with his ears. Though that was impossible. But it was the feeling of warm love, all too familiar, seeming to wrap around him, and a soothing, soft voice that was so close to his heart, that lulled him back into his sleep-like state.

And it was with these feelings lingering on him as if he were holding onto them himself that he truly woke.

* * *

It’s warm out, but he doesn’t feel warm. No -- this air, by comparison to what he had been clinging onto until moments ago, seems cold. 

But it’s a temporary coldness, as he inhales and takes in the familiar, warm scent of Izuchi. The grass and the flowers he knows all too well. He reaches out an arm, seeking the other familiar warmth sure to be next to him.

It’s not there.

Everything rushes to him then, memories and thoughts and feelings, like a tidal wave crashing onto him. And he realizes this wasn’t like a nap on the grass with Mikleo near Izuchi, when they would fall asleep without meaning to and wake up feeling like no time had gone by, before they noticed the sun was setting. No, now Sorey is painfully aware of how much time had passed since he had last opened his eyes. Not just because of the fact that he simply knew it was supposed to be this long, but because his body is heavy, much too heavy, as if it’s some kind of machine that hasn’t been started in so long it might break down. 

He can remember, distantly, that one of the last things he thought to himself before starting this was that he would be happy when he woke. Because this was for the better. Because it had to be done. He had to tell himself that, because if he thought of that image, imprinted in his mind, of Mikleo rising further and further away from him, leaving him for what would be hundreds upon possibly hundreds of years --

It turns out his heart sinking is the first thing he feels after all this time.

But he forces himself to sit up halfway, straining his eyelids to get them to open.

Bright, bright -- so bright. He wonders for a moment if he might go blind. For a few seconds it’s all simply white, and then colors start to blur in -- vivid multitudes of them, taking nearly minutes to come into focus --

The sight around him was another mark of how much time had passed. Yet it doesn’t leave Sorey with the feeling of his heart falling.

No, instead he’s simply stunned, at first. Around him is a place so different than the one he had gone to sleep in that it feels like another world. There’s flowers as far as he can see, there are trees, there are animals. The dawn light casts it all in a glow that makes it seem somehow more ethereal.

He looks down, at the daisies that surround him. Daisies… his favorite. Daisies and smatterings of another flower, some kind of lily, it seems. They seem the most ethereal and beautiful of them all, and Mikleo’s face flashes in his mind --

\-- He has to go.

He stands as fast as he can, legs wobbling slightly. And then he’s running at top speed, despite feeling like he might fall over during the first few seconds. Still, he’s careful to run only along the thin pathway of grass and not on the flowers.

It leads him to an entryway in the cliffside and he stops a moment, realizing he has no idea where he’s going. The geography had changed so drastically, after all, where would this even take him? ...Well, surely, at least, to whatever was left of Camlann. He could at least find clues, he tells himself, as he breaks into a run again.

He enters the cliffside, coming into what one would usually call a cave -- except that Sorey isn’t inclined to call it that at all. It’s much too bright and green. Grass spreads across most of the bottom, sunlight flooding through the ceiling. Vines hanging above hamper the brightness just a bit, but not enough to stop the small pool of water near him from sparkling.

Sorey catches a glimpse of his reflection in it and freezes.

Of course, he looks the same. He’s still wearing his shepherd's cloak, and his face and body look as though they haven’t aged a day. Except for his hair. It’s mostly the same, too -- but instead of stopping at his neck in the back, it now stretches down to a little past his shoulders, and the tip of each strand seems as though it’s been dipped in yellow dye.

He brushes it over his shoulder to his front to look at it better. Hair like this can only mean one thing, of course. A mixture of emotion he doesn’t have time to sort out start to swirl in his stomach.

For now, he quickly takes a small tie out of one of the pouches on his belt, and ties the hair behind him in a short, low ponytail. And then he’s hurrying along again.

Before even a minute goes by he comes to a fork. He thinks for only a second -- he just has to get out of here, he has to know what’s going on -- there seem to be no identifying features on either side, so he quickly turns and rushes down the closer one --

He crashes into something, stumbling backwards and nearly falling over. He’s able to blindly reach out and grab onto the wall before he does, but the person in front of him is not as lucky.

The girl lets out a small gasp of pain as she hits the floor, and Sorey feels guilt instantly creeping over him.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, holding his hand out to her. “I was rushing, and I wasn’t looking where I was going --”

“It’s alright,” says the girl, probably a couple years younger than he, as she took his hand and let him pull her up. “I thought I heard someone coming, I should’ve been more careful.” Her eyes survey him briefly, and then she smiles and claps her hands together. “Oh! Are you a shepherd here on a pilgrimage?” She asks, gesturing at his cloak.

“Uh,” Sorey stammers. He didn’t really have the time to be explaining to this girl exactly what was going on, and would she even believe him? 

He doesn’t have to answer, thankfully -- or so he thought for a moment, before she follows up with a worse question. “Although, aren’t you a tenzoku?”

Sorey opens his mouth and promptly closes it. It sure seemed he was, even if he had no idea how to use any of his powers, or even what kind of powers he had. “Yeah,” he says finally, figuring it makes more sense than saying nothing at all.

“I see. You’re dressed like a shepherd, though,” she says, and Sorey tenses a little. The last thing he wants right now is to be stuck here answering questions. He eases a bit though when he meets her gaze again, and sees her smile. “Are you not from around here?”

“Uh -- yeah. I mean, no. I’m not.”

Her smile widens. “Okay. Well, you can follow me out of here, if you want, I was just leaving to go back to the village,” she says, and Sorey lets out a small sigh of relief at the fact that he didn’t have to come up with some lie of where he was from.

“Thanks,” Sorey says, as he starts to follow her.

“But yeah,” says the girl, “People are going to think you’re a shepherd if you walk around wearing that. Which isn’t a bad thing, it’ll just be confusing, since you’re not human. There’s lot of shepherds, but they’re all human.”

“Lots… of shepherds?” Sorey says, warmth bubbling inside him.

“Mmhm. You must’ve come from another continent, I guess?” Sorey nods, but she doesn’t look back to check before continuing, “Well, you must know about how shepherds fight back malevolence and hellions and that stuff, using powers from the tenzoku. They generally go on a sort of pilgrimage, following footsteps of old shepherds, and honing their powers. Of course, there isn’t much malevolence in this day and age at all. Not since the last lone shepherd drove back the Lord of Calamity, like what… over six hundred years ago?”

Sorey freezes.

_Over six hundred years?_

His heart pounds, his chest tightens. He knew there was a chance it would be this long. A probable chance, in fact. It could have even been longer. He should be thankful. Yet still he couldn’t let go of the tiny part of him that had been hoping, praying, that maybe it wouldn’t have been that long --

He realizes the girl is now several paces ahead of him, and he forces his legs to move and catch up, his body feeling yet more foreign to him.

“Don’t worry, the village is only another minute or two away. It’s called Izuchi. Oh, I’m Lily, by the way. Lily Diphda.”

Sorey nearly stops short again, dozens of questions flooding his brain. “Diphda?” He settles on. “Um… as in, the Diphda from Hyland royalty?” He asks, praying that still made sense.

“You’re certainly knowledgeable about that for not knowing much about shepherd customs,” Lily says, looking back at him with a smile. Sorey uses the chance to really take in her appearance -- she certainly didn’t look anything like Alisha. Her hair was black, her eyes were a deep, dark blue, and her skin was dark, too. “Yes, though,” she says. “Obviously I’m not related to the original Diphdas by blood, since any blood relation to them died out after Alisha Diphda. But I am a descendent of her adopted children.”

“That’s… really neat,” Sorey says slowly, countless emotions welling up inside him again.

“I live here in Izuchi, so if you have trouble getting anywhere, feel free to find me. And here we are.”

They had arrived at a set of stone stairs, clearly made at least somewhat recently. When they took them up and exited the cave, Sorey couldn’t help but let out a small gasp. 

They had come out right next to the Mabinogio ruins, facing Izuchi. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it? So that was a shortcut made fairly recently that’ll take you to the deepest part of these ruins. If you go down those ones,” Lily says, pointing Sorey to a familiar entryway, “you’ll get to the Sacred Grounds of Camlann, and going from there you’ll eventually get to where we just came from.”

“Okay. Thank you so much for all the help,” Sorey says, giving her a small bow.

“Not at all,” Lily says with a small wave of her hand. “Can I do anything else?”

“Oh no, thank you though.” Sorey smiles at her, trying to assuage her somewhat concerned expression. “I think I’m going to look around here for a little bit.”

She smiles back at him and nods. “Okay. Well, I’ll be in the village.” She turns and walks a few paces toward Izuchi. Then, she stops and quickly turns back to face Sorey. “By the way, what’s your --”

But Sorey had already rounded the corner of the Mabinogio entrance.

He looks around. Unlike beyond Camlann, which had looked so different from before his sleep that it felt otherworldly, this was nearly the same. Some trees were bigger and some of the plants were different, but besides that and the new entrance that let to Camlann, it was all virtually the same. The grass swayed in the gentle breeze. The prickleboars grazed next to the goats. The air smelled clean and warm. 

He closes his eyes once more, leaning back against the ruin’s wall. After a moment, he opens them and looks to his side.

...No, of course not. This was all real, and he had already confirmed it.

Somehow, he still feels a sting in his heart. But there was no time to dwell.

Hoping to avoid further questioning from people like Lily, he pulls his shepherd's cloak over his head, folds it, and tucks it under his arm. Then, he pokes his head around the corner, and sets off toward Izuchi once he’s sure he’s alone.

He mulls over his options in his head. He supposed he could ask Lily about who lived in the village. But he really didn’t want to explain more than he had to right now. Someday soon he wanted to talk to her about a lot of things, but right now he only had one thing on his mind, and he had to do it as soon as possible. Every second wasted felt like it might be the second that made him too late. How, he didn’t know, but every few moments all he could hear in his mind was _over six hundred years ago._ Every moment it sank in deeper; six hundred years. Six hundred years. Six hundred years apart.

That was a long time… such a long time. Such a distance. Sorey had never, not for one second, doubted his relationship with Mikleo, ever since they were children… but six hundred years was a long time. Anything could’ve happened. It wasn’t even that he was worried about anything in particular -- it was simply that the time itself felt like a distance vaster than the world itself.

He enters Izuchi. This, too, is mostly the same. The same houses in the same places. Well, mostly. There were some more, now, and as Sorey had suspected after seeing Lily -- it seemed not only tenzoku lived here now, but humans as well. 

A little bit of warmth creeps into him again.

He’s careful not to meet the gazes of any of the few people out, making a beeline for a particular house.

He stops at the doorway. It was possible -- and likely -- that someone else entirely lived here. What would he say then? 

Steeling himself that he’d just say he was mistaken, Sorey knocks at the door.

He waits a few moments of no reply before he does it again.

There’s still no response and he sighs.

He glances at the window, but he can’t make out much; it’s small, and all he can really see is a stack of books, on top of which --

His heart jumps. The Celestial Record. A worn copy, at that, with bookmarks sticking out of its weathered pages. 

Without another thought he slowly pushes the door open.

...To find no one, of course. Sorey lets out a small sigh as he closes the door behind him.

It’s another place seemingly frozen by time. There’s some more books and relics and such, and now a small desk and chair sit against the left wall, but all else is the same. Though it’s distinctly more neat -- the books and odds and ends are arranged in an orderly fashion, and it’s quite clean. Quickly, Sorey heads over to the hearth --

Of course not. There were no signs that it had been in any recent use. 

Sorey looks around, attention falling onto the desk. He walks over to it, hoping to find something, any kind of clue.

It’s sparse -- a feather quill and ink bottle are in a corner, next to a stack of blank parchment. A single one lies stray in the middle, bearing elegant handwriting:

_“If you’ve come here, I’ve gone to newly unearthed ruins far to the west of Aroundight Forest, in the mountain. Wait here for me.”_

Sorey’s heart pounds. The writing is familiar. Surely, it had to be Mikleo’s. There’s no other explanation. Right? It has to be meant for Sorey.

But then why isn’t it addressed to him?

...Maybe Mikleo _hadn’t_ written it. Maybe Sorey had forgotten what Mikleo’s handwriting was like. Maybe he’s just desperate.

He bites his lip.

He could wait and see if Mikleo came back. But how long would that be? How long ago had he even left this? If he had left it. He mindlessly flips over the piece of parchment. Blank, of course.

But he does notice that there’s something under it -- another piece of parchment, with the same handwriting.

_“If you’ve come here, I’ve gone to Ladylake. Wait here for me.”_

And another one under that:

_“If you’ve come here, I’ve gone to Lastonbell. Wait here for me.”_

Again Sorey’s heart is racing. It would make sense if these were for him, right? Surely that must be the case…

...But then how many of these had been written? There’s a sizeable stack of them on the corner of the desk, and there’s a bin next to the desk with several balled and scrapped pieces. Sorey doesn’t need to look to know what they are. But would that mean Mikleo had really been leaving this many messages, this often, for…

Sorey can’t bear to think about the amount of time again, and brings his gaze back to the note in front of him.

He could wait. He could wait and see.

But for how long? What if this had stopped long ago? The house was clean, but --

_Over six hundred years._

His stomach lurches and his decision is made.

He leaves his folded cloak on the desk, and then briskly walks out the door.

Again, he’s careful to avoid the looks of anyone walking about, speeding out of the village as the last of the pink sunrise changes into bright, sky blue.

Down the slope he goes, the cloudless sky slowly becoming obscured by the increasing amounts of trees. He pauses at the first fork, before continuing down the west pathway, albeit more slowly. The note had given him a vague direction, but how long would it take him to find this place? If it was recently unearthed, it probably wouldn’t be that hard… right?

He continues along his way. Both the times he had passed through the forest, he had gone as straight as possible, so the other parts of the forest were unfamiliar to him. Even without Jiji’s protection -- 

Sorey stops.

He takes a deep, somewhat shaken breath. Then, he faces the direction of Izuchi, puts his hands together and closes his eyes.

_Jiji. I’m sorry I haven’t said anything until now. Thank you… for everything. I miss you. Please… I hope you’ve been watching over Mikleo._

Sorey opens his eyes slowly and his heart sinks. And image comes to mind of Mikleo, tidying up Jiji’s house, alone. Going to the house he shared with Sorey and doing the same, all by himself. He’s sure Lailah and Rose and the others would have helped him, but knowing Mikleo --

He feels his chest constrict painfully. Lailah, Alisha, Rose, Edna, Zaveid…

Again his eyes close, and this time they start to sting a bit. There was no question of what had become of Alisha and Rose. They were only human. His fingers curl painfully into his palms. Lailah, Edna, Zaveid… they were old, but how old? Sorey has no idea. Surely not as old as Jiji, right? He’s not sure how old exactly Jiji had been, either, but another… six hundred years… was probably nothing to them. Right?

It had to be nothing to them -- it had to be. The thought of Mikleo truly all alone --

\-- but then what if the same thing had happened to Mikleo?

No. No, no. That was ridiculous, Sorey tells himself, trying to get his mind to speak louder than his heart hammering against his chest. Mikleo was his age, and tenzoku lived maybe thousands of years, it seemed like. 

What if something had happened? The land would never be perfectly peaceful, and Mikleo was a water tenzoku of all things, he was more easily susceptible, and --

Sorey feels close to vomiting.

But the note, he tells himself. The note… means nothing, really. There’s no proof Mikleo wrote it, after all, or even if he did, how long ago. 

Anything could happen in over six hundred years.

He takes another deep, shaky breath. His chest feels as if it’s caught in a vice, and his heart is pounding so loud and hard it’s like it’s about to jump out of him.

But he puts one foot in front of another.

And so Sorey keeps moving through the forest. He remembers gazing down at it with Mikleo from the cliffs of Izuchi, talking about what might lay beyond it. The ruins. The adventure. The journey. 

Logically speaking, Sorey thinks -- perhaps to distract himself from the pooling sense of dread in his stomach -- journeys always had an end. That was what made them journeys. They had a start and a middle and an end. Yet somehow, ever since they were young, Sorey had never imagined his long-awaited journey with Mikleo to come to an end. He had spent so much of his youth thinking of the beginning, and all the things they’d do in the middle. 

But all things came to an end, didn’t they?

Even if those notes _were_ for him, even if Mikleo _was_ in the ruins just up head and Sorey _did_ find him -- what was Mikleo’s life even like now? Was he busy? Did he have new companions? Did he have someone else… close?

Sorey’s heart feels like it’s about to tear in two at just the thought, but even more overwhelming than that’s the immediate guilt of thinking it. How could he even begin to think that about Mikleo?

_Over six hundred years._

It’s not like he and Mikleo had ever spoken about this sort of thing, really. They hadn’t made promises. Their bond was largely unspoken, reaffirmed by actions, not words. 

Hadn’t it been?

For better or for worse Sorey trips over an unnoticed tree root, one that sticks out of the ground so much it’s as if it has no ground to sink into. Which, apparently, it did not, Sorey notices as he catches himself on a low-hanging branch and pulls himself up.

The forest had ended as suddenly as it had started, coming into a brook whose water streamed quietly along its way. Across it is a cliff, the peak of its height obscured, as it stretched far above the trees of the forest. Sorey’s eyes fall to the part of it directly across from him. Crumbled rock, evidently fresh, litter the ground around what appears to be a kind of entry way. 

Careful so as not to get his feet too wet, Sorey walks along the rocks in the brook, heading into the cliffside without a second thought.

It’s dark for about a minute -- Sorey simply making his way down a seemingly endless set of stairs. Eventually though, it ends, and Sorey turns a corner and gasps.

It’s like another world all at once, colors exploding and shining in front of him as if from nowhere. The ruins are pristine and ethereal, teeming with hints and clues as to the life they once carried.

It’s nothing like Sorey has ever seen before, and somewhere, dully, a part of him is overwhelmed with excitement. Or it might be. He’s not sure, and he doesn’t care. He’s sure he would be ecstatic, if he were with him. 

But without Mikleo the ruins seem uninteresting and pointless. What was the point of investigating them if he had no one to share it with? What was the point of making some cool discovering if he couldn’t look to his side and see Mikleo’s smiling face?

Sorey walks quickly, his eyes straight ahead. He allows them to flutter about here and there, looking for any sliver of movement, or any sign that someone had been here recently.

Unfortunately, the ruins are as vast as they are wondrous, and fifteen minutes of aimless wandering yields no results. But it’s just because it’s big, he tells himself. There could be someone anywhere.

Eventually he’s going up a fine set of stairs, ones that come out to the side of the ruins. Columns that stretch from the ceiling to the floor offer wide gaps, allowing Sorey to look out to the fields below.

He’s got to be on the other side now, as it looks over a wide field -- he could even very well be looking at the now-green land that leads up to Camlann. He’s too high up to tell, and too single-minded right now to think about it much. The sky is still a cloudless bright blue, and despite the distance Sorey can still see the light swaying of the grass in waves as the spring breeze drifts over it. It’s as if the image of the scenery in his head of laying in the fields near in Izuchi with Mikleo have been projected in front him, the ones that haven’t left his mind since he woke. But now too, he remembers standing at a cliffside in Izuchi and looking over them with Mikleo, the day before they entered the Mabionogio ruins for the last time. He remembers Mikleo’s voice exactly: _“I’ll tell you next time.”_

 _“Next time?”_ Sorey had asked.

_“Next time.”_

What if there was no next time? What had Mikleo wanted to tell him?

The scenery in front of him seems blurry now. Sorey rubs his eyes on his sleeve and his vision clears.

And then he takes a deep, slow breath.

“Mikleo!” He cries. He pauses and repeats himself, carrying it out longer, yelling at the top of his lungs. _“Mikleo!”_

He takes in his breath again as quietly as he can, listening so intently he’s sure he’d hear a pin drop.

Of course, he hears nothing.

But he allows himself only a moment of dismay. After that, he clenches his fists once, and continues up the stairs.

It’s quite a bit of climb, but a couple minutes later he’s at the top and being greeted by yet another vast, open, bright room. This one, however, is a bit different: a towering door stands open at the end, and through the doorway --

Sorey’s feet start to carry him faster, coming into a light jog. A person. He couldn’t make out any details from the distance, but --

He’s closer now, though, and he can see the person’s nearly white hair, with pale blue --

Sorey’s breaks into a total sprint, his heart moving yet faster than his legs, his mind strangely blank despite the rush of emotions and adrenaline now coursing through him. He opens his mouth to call out --

And the person starts to fall, his body disappearing into floor that had just opened up under him --

Sorey leaps and reaches down, grabbing the person’s hand and holding onto the floor with the other.

He says nothing. His heart is stopped and his brain is frozen. 

For a moment, the other person doesn’t look up, too surprised by his sudden halt. He slowly looks up, and his eyes widen. His bright, deep, purple, beautiful eyes.

Sorey meets Mikleo’s gaze without a word. His breath has been caught in his throat since he grabbed Mikleo’s hand, making him all the more aware of how hard is heart is hammering. Mikleo’s eyes are wide, his whole expression stunned, and Sorey can feel his lungs starting to burn for air.

And then he can feel Mikleo relax. He feels the tension leaves his hand, he sees his eyes start to shimmer, and watches as Mikleo's free hand comes to hold onto his own.

Sorey pulls him up faster than he thought possible.

In an instant Mikleo’s arms are around him, swifter than Sorey can finally breathe. His fingers dig into Sorey’s back so tightly it’s painful, he leans into it so much Sorey falls over. Nothing bothering to catch himself, Sorey lets his back hit the floor, instead wrapping his arms right back around Mikleo.

“Sorey,” Mikleo says, his voice thick. He pulls his head back just enough to look at him, as if to confirm it, before burying his head immediately back into the other’s shoulder like he’s pulled there by a magnetic-like force. His whole body shifts against Sorey’s, trying to push himself as close as physically possible. 

“I… I’m back,” Sorey says quietly, lips moving against Mikleo’s ear.

Mikleo pulls back again, looking at Sorey’s eyes, his own glossy and starting to drip with tears. “Welcome home,” he says through a sob.

He lowers his head down again and Sorey leans up and they kiss, Mikleo’s tears falling onto Sorey’s face. It’s more of them simply holding each other close than anything else; after a moment they move their lips against each other and part, opening their eyes again as if scared the other disappeared.

“I -- oh, Sorey,” Mikleo says, as if completely lost as to what to say. He shoves his head into the crook of Sorey’s neck again and says hurriedly, “I -- I thought I heard you, I thought I heard you say my name.” His voice is fast, muffled, and punctuated by sobs. “But I think I hear you all the time. I didn’t think… that this time, it would… oh…”

Sorey feels more tears fall down his cheek, and realizes now that they’re his own. He turns his head and kisses the side of the other’s face. Mikleo turns to look at him. “When did you -- oh,” he says, eyes following a tear trailing from one of Sorey’s eyes. “Are -- are you okay?”

“No, I -- I’m fine,” Sorey says, bearing a soft smile. “I… it’s dumb. I thought… as I was coming here, I started worrying about… stupid stuff,” he continues, feeling sheepish now as heat rises to his cheeks. “I thought about… how long it’s been, and --”

He’s cut off as Mikleo’s mouth collides into his own. It’s more of a kiss this time, Mikleo’s tongue swiping across his lips once before pulling back.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, still close enough that his lips move against Sorey’s as he speaks, like he can’t bare to be any further apart. “I just --”

“It’s okay,” Sorey murmurs, the end of the word muffled as he kisses Mikleo again. He tightens his grip on his back and pulls him closer.

“I just thought about how long it’s been,” Sorey says quietly against Mikleo’s lips. “And -- I guess I was worried.” His vision blurs hard and he blinks the tears away, throat starting to feel thick. “I thought maybe… things had changed. Or something had --” he lets out a quiet sob -- “happened to you, or you found… someone el--”

Again he’s cut off, this time not by the other’s lips but by the sheer force of how hard Mikleo squeezes him. “You idiot,” he says against Sorey’s ear, “I could never do any of those. Nothing -- _nothing_ \-- could get in the way of you and me. _I’m_ sorry.”

“Why?” Sorey asks, moving one of his hands up so that it tangles into Mikleo’s hair.

“I… figured you would come back… the way you have,” he says, picking his head up as his eyes trail down some of the loose strands of Sorey’s hair. “But… I’ve read… I tried to read so much about it, as much as I could, and there are… a lot of writings about how humans usually don’t always come back with all of their memories, or sometimes none of them at all.” Sorey sees Mikleo’s eyes start to shimmer again. “I was scared you’d forget. I left you notes --”

“I know, that’s why I came here,” Sorey says with a smile, but Mikleo shakes his head and goes on.

“But I didn’t know what you’d remember, I didn’t know if you’d just go to that place because you felt drawn to it. I didn’t sign them, and didn’t address them to you, because I didn’t know if you’d recognize the names, and maybe you’d think they weren’t for you, and --” Mikleo takes a shuddering breath, continuing in a hurried voice, “I didn’t know what to do. I went there as often as I could, in case you’d woken up, but I couldn’t be there all the time, and…” he shakes his head, tears falling from his eyes. “Do… do you really remember… everything?”

Sorey nods his head once. He brings one of his hands to the side of Mikleo’s face, brushing a strand of hair away from it and then gently cupping his cheek. “Everything.” He leans up and kisses the tip of Mikleo’s nose. “How could I forget?”

Mikleo’s shaking with the force of held back sobs. He leans into Sorey’s hand, blinking away a fresh wave of tears. “Sorey,” he murmurs.

Sorey rubs his back. “Mikleo.”

For a moment they stay like that, but after a moment Sorey moves his arms to his side so that he can push himself up into a sitting position, leaving Mikleo straddling his lap. “I do mean everything,” he says. “So you have to tell me what you were going to back in Izuchi now.”

Sorey’s smiling a bit playfully, but Mikleo’s eyes are widening and a redness is rushing to his face. “I…” Mikleo starts, gaze falling onto Sorey’s lap so that his bangs obscure his eyes. Sorey tilts his head to the side and his smile fades.

Mikelo takes a deep breath. “I couldn’t tell you before you… did what you did. It would have been selfish. I couldn’t make you feel guilty. I just…” He looks up and meets Sorey’s eyes, tears starting to stream down his face. “I just wanted to tell you I love you. That I love you so much,” he says, fingers curling painfully tight into Sorey’s shirt. “So, so much,” he continues, trying to rapidly blink the tears away. “With -- all my heart.”

Sorey’s heart is racing again and for the first time he feels, truly, that time has not passed at all.

“Oh, Mikleo,” he says, the end of his words cut off as he presses his lips against the other’s. He kisses him fully this time, sucking on his bottom lip once before sliding his tongue into his mouth. Both of his hands hold Mikleo’s face now, and Mikleo angles his head so it’s easier for him to kiss back with force enough that Sorey nearly falls over again.

They break apart and their breaths are shallow and strained, but despite that Sorey manages, “I love you too. I love you so much, I --”

He just kisses Mikleo again, but their lungs are still burning and it’s cut short. 

This time it’s Sorey who nuzzles himself into Mikleo’s neck, moving his hands down to wrap around the other’s back again. “I love you so much,” he says, voice muffled.

Mikleo kisses the top of his head and squeezes him.

They stay like that. Sorey’s hands start to mindlessly rub Mikleo’s back. Every few moments Mikleo kisses another part of Sorey’s head. Eventually Sorey pulls back a bit, a smile on his face that Mikleo can’t help but return. 

“Speaking of remember things,” Sorey says, absentmindedly running a hand through Mikleo’s hair, “Mikleo… all those flowers that were around where I woke up… did… you do that?”

Sorey feels the other tense in a bit, and when Mikleo’s speaks it’s so quiet Sorey can barely hear him. “I… I just thought…” He looks down and shakes his head the tiniest bit. “It was the least I could do.”

“I thought it was beautiful. The daisies were my favorite,” he says, and can see Mikleo’s lips curving back into a smile, “but it was all so beautiful.”

“Well, I had help.”

Sorey feels his stomach sink for the first time since Mikleo had fallen into his arms.

“Mikleo… um…” He bites his tongue a moment. “The others… are they…”

Mikleo looks back up, and Sorey sees his smile is still on his face. “I think they’ll all be very happy to see you.”

Sorey’s smile stretches so wide it hurts.

Mikleo pushes his ponytail back behind his shoulder, and brushes aside his bangs that had become so askew. Sorey lets his eyes really take in the sight, now -- Mikleo’s hair had always been fluffy and soft, and having so much of it only accentuated the fact. His figure was just as slender and fit against Sorey’s as well as ever.

“You look beautiful,” Sorey says.

He swears he can see a pink tinge on Mikleo’s face as his eyes pull away from Sorey’s. “You too,” Mikleo mumbles. He brings a hand to the back of Sorey’s head, running his fingers through his now-messy ponytail and bringing it over his shoulder.

“You think?” Sorey says, glancing at the movement from the corner of his eyes. “I wasn’t sure it suited me, but…”

“Well,” Mikleo says, wearing a smirk Sorey knows all too well, “you’ll need to have me trim it for you, of course, but if you want to keep it, I think it looks nice.”

Sorey smiles again -- or maybe it was just still there and simply grew, he isn’t sure he’s stopped smiling in minutes -- and pecks another kiss at Mikleo’s cheek. 

“So,” Mikleo says, standing up and holding a hand down to Sorey. “Are you going to investigate this place with me, or not?”

Sorey takes his hand and Mikleo pulls him up.

“Yeah,” he says, “but first --”

He’s so fast that he’s not sure if Mikleo’s gasping at Sorey’s arms wrapping around him, lifting him up and spinning him round, or both. Either way, after taking him in one full circle, Sorey stops and beams up at him.

“Good. You seemed a little taller, but you’re just as light, I guess,” he says. He still holds Mikleo so that he’s off the ground, but shifts his arms so that they’re under his thighs instead. 

Mikleo is all but pouting, with no way to hide the redness on his face. “Come on, let’s go.” Despite his words, his arms wind around Sorey’s shoulders.

“Mmhm,” Sorey says.

But instead of putting him down, he leans up and presses another kiss onto his lips. He’s not sure exactly when they’d stop and be on their way, but that was okay. They had plenty of time. And much to make up for.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! 
> 
> yes i did take some liberties with the ruins. i know the game shows it to us in this wide open field, but. oh well. also yes i like to imagine roseali adopting kids.
> 
> kuremikazuchi@twitter  
> kiryuujoshua@tumblr


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